The Mid-Life Chrysler

We've all heard those stories about men who reach mid-life and fall into a crisis. Women don't much have that problem because every day is a crisis. Or chaos. Crisis and chaos, that's what we're about.

At this point the man finds some way to express his crisis, perhaps with a divorce and a trophy wife or a hot red sports car.

I've always said that the Farmer is ahead of the curve and this is borne out in the fact that he got his midlife crisis sports car when he was 28 years old. It was a bright orange Corvette. We were dating and I was glad to be part of his crisis. I looked darling in that Corvette.

Fast forward to last week. Now, remember, I'M the car nut, not him. When you think of me, think of Marisa Tomei in "My Cousin Vinny". Yeah, a girl gear head.

The Farmers says to me, "There's a great little car parked in the driveway on Empire Road."

I know EXACTLY the spot. This guy has a handman business and seems to also be a dealer in vintage cars and trucks. There's always some kind of very interesting motor vehicle parked in this driveway with a for sale sign on it. I've even seen a very old (probably the 1940's) fire truck for sale.

"What kind of car?" I asked, knowing that the Farmer can rarely name a make and model.

Well, let's just say that this car is so distinctive that even the Farmer could identify it.

It's red.



It's really, really small. I guess you could say it's the Mini-Cooper of it's day. It was also the first car my friend Marge ever owned.



It's not sleek like a Corvette, but it's "quirky", which sometimes describes me.

Did I mention it's red?

I would look adorable driving around in this car, with it's red plaid interior.

Isn't it cute?



She has a cute rear end also, as every mid-life crisis car should have.



And she had a lovely profile.



No, it's not a Chrysler. I just like the way that sounded - Mid-Life Chrysler. Has a nice ring to it.

It's a 1958 Nash Metropolitan and it runs! Needs a little TLC says the for sale sign.

The Farmer was briefly entertaining the thought of having the little Nash as a 'Sunday car". Something to go on little jaunts on the weekend. I was lobbying heavily in this car's favor, talking up her good points.

But he hesitated.

And she was gone.

Oh well, the crisis passed. And besides, I told the Farmer he was WAY past midlife. Do you know anyone who lives to be 130 years old? Well, there's that woman in Eastern Europe but you know how women lie about their age.